Turning Eighteen
by Madizon
Summary: Wendy secretly wished that Peter would come tonight, before she was an adult, and rescue her from her fate. Yes, that was a very good thought. She chuckled to herself and looked wishfully at her window. There was somebody outside.
1. Midnight Coming

Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan. If I did, then I certainly wouldn't be loading my stories on this wonderful site; instead I would be publishing them and making some dough.

So, I wrote the first paragraph of this story maybe two years ago when I had insomnia. I found it just the other day and I decided to add onto it. It was not originally supposed to be a Peter Story, but I molded it into one. Also, you won't see very much of the genres that I selected for this story (Action/Adventure/Humor) in this chapter, but I assure you that there will be very much of that in the chapters to come! I hope you enjoy it!

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Chapter One: Midnight Coming 

Wendy Fletcher lay in the dark watching the seconds tick by on her alarm clock. It was less than an hour before midnight, yet sleep would not come. Her mind raced with thoughts of the next day; a day most would be excited about, but she was dreading. The next day, Wendy would become an adult. The next day was Wendy's eighteenth birthday.

Such a day should bring excitement not loathing, yet hatred filled her. Wendy couldn't help but feel unready for the responsibilities that lay before her. An optimist by nature such feeling had left her gloomy and dispirited. When she had tried to explain this to her mother, the response that she was received was filled with compliments on just how responsible and mature she really was. Though her mother's attempts at instilling confidence in her only daughter were made with the best of intentions, it merely managed to give Wendy even more of a feeling of inadequacy.

Everyone had always depended on Wendy for everything. If there was something to be done, some task that another body couldn't be conned into doing, surely good ol' Wendy Fletcher could handle it. It was like a sickness with her, that she just couldn't say no and people knew that. She was often stuck doing things that she really didn't want to do. Babysitting her little brothers, for instance; she didn't mind watching the five year-old twins, but she always seemed to have to cancel other plans to do it. Her mother would always ask her if she wouldn't mind, because if she had something else to do then they could get the neighbors to do it, but Wendy would stick on a smile and nod her head. Or when the art club was having a fundraiser; she would end up having to organize the entire thing because the other members were "busy", and then afterwards they would take all of the credit. But, of course, Wendy would just grin and bear it. It was a never ending battle with her.

_I'll just have to learn to say no._ Wendy thought and then groaned. Even in her mind the words didn't sound convincing. She had told herself that she needed to learn to say that infamous word thousands, if not millions, of times in the past and it had never amounted to the slightest bit of improvement on her part.

But now there was nothing to do but wait, wait for midnight and responsibility to come. She glanced around her room, looking at the dark shadows cast by all her belongings, and watching the moving lights from cars dance around on her plain walls. Her china dolls, each dressed in beautiful, Victorian-Era apparel with delinquently painted faces were standing on the top of her bookcase. She wondered to herself if eighteen year-olds kept those sorts of things out in their bedrooms. Perhaps she would box them up in the morning. Then she saw her hammock filled with stuffed teddy-bears and cats, hanging from the ceiling. If her dolls were to go, then there was no point in keeping the stuffed animals around as well.

Finally her eyes rested on the very bottom shelf of the bookcase. It was stacked with her old story books. The most visibly warn was _Peter Pan_ by J.M. Barrie. Oh, had she loved that book. She would beg her mother to read it to her every night before she was able to do so herself, and then when she finally could, her nose was buried in it during every spare moment she had. After a while, she had convinced herself that Peter Pan was real. She doted on him, always thinking about the way that Peter would complete what ever task or chore she was performing. She daydreamed of the adventures they would have together, battling pirates and spending afternoons with mermaids and the Lost Boys. She imagined Tinkerbell flying around her room like a floating, golden bauble and dictating the latest crazy thing Peter had managed, and then the two of them laughing about it afterwards. Pretty soon all of Wendy's art projects for school were likenesses of the way she imagined him, and her stories were full of his influence. She cold hardly go a second without thinking of him, or mentioning him, or comparing something to him. It even got to the point where she would stay up and wait by her window ceil for him to come.

But he never did.

Wendy secretly wished that Peter would come tonight, before she was an adult, and rescue her from her fate. Yes, that was a very good thought. She chuckled to herself and looked wishfully at her window.

There was somebody outside.

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Hey everyone! What did ya'll think? I'll try to update soon and because I'm on winter break right now, I should have sometime. Once I do go back to school, however, the updates might not be as quick as you would like. Please review though; I could use some input and creative criticism.

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	2. A Birthday Surprise

Disclaimer: Once again, I don't own anything to do with the Peter Pan Franchise.

Hey every one! I was starting to feel very pessimistic when I waited for two whole days without any reviews on this story, but I got one yesterday and one today, so I feel much better. Thanks to **WickedFaith** (I hope I updated quick enough for you!) and **Shoopie27** (Thanks, but how do you know my name?).

This chapter is a little bit longer than the last, and that usually always happens when I write something. The next chapter will be even longer, and the one after that even longer and so on. Just read all the way to then end, and I promise it won't disappoint you. I'll try to get the next chapter up in a few days. I'm counting on nice, healthy reviews though so tell me what you think!

Enjoy the story!

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Chapter 2: A Birthday Surprise 

Panic raced through her as Wendy looked at the shadow outside of her window. She couldn't tell anything about the person, but all she knew was that her bedroom was on the second floor.

Curiosity won over fear as she swung her legs over the side of the mattress and inched her way towards the window. The figure tapped on the glass gently, and then, to see if Wendy was coming, they pressed their face up against it.

When Wendy realized who it was, disappointment filled her. She pulled open the window and was greeted by the smiling face of her next door neighbor as he stood on one of the top rungs of a ladder propped against the outside of the window frame.

"Hey, Sam." She said to him in a thwarted voice.

"Well, hi to you too, neighbor." Sam's sarcasm was evident. "I'm just as excited to see you." Wendy laughed at him and took his hand as he climbed through the window frame into her bedroom. This wasn't the first time he had made a late night visit to her, all though it had been at least a year since the last one had taken place. (All encounters between them are totally innocent.) Samuel Baker was her flamboyant, eighteen year-old neighbor. They had known each other practically since infancy and had always been the best of friends. He was a loud, obnoxious, ball of energy contrasting nicely with her conservative, shy personality.

"What are you doing here? It's almost midnight." She asked smiling. Thank goodness she had decided to wear her thick, baggy flannel pajamas that night instead of a flimsy night dress. She would die of embarrassment in Sam saw her in one of those.

"That's exactly it, my friend. I want to be here when you turn eighteen." He smiled sweetly. Then he turned and leaned back out of the window. When Sam came back in, he was holding a plastic grocery bag.

"What's that?" She asked coyly, knowing that it was going to be some sort of birthday present. Sam was always so thoughtful.

He blushed slightly and walked towards her desk, where he cleared away some of the text books and papers. From the bag he withdrew a small cake with white frosting and colored sprinkles. On the cake was the message, "Happy Birthday Wendy!" in dark blue gel frosting. He took the plastic lid off of the cake and then put a candle in the shape of an "18" right in the center of the cake. Then he removed two plastic forks from the bag and handed one to her.

Wendy found herself almost in tears as she took the fork from his hand. "Thank you, Sam." She managed and then gave him a hug.

"Well, I would light the candles, but I think the smell of melting wax might wake up your parents, so…"

"No, it's perfect." She smiled. Sam blushed again.

"In two minutes we can eat." He laughed.

"I can hardly wait." Wendy said dryly. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Are you still all worried about being eighteen? Wendy, it's just a number; it doesn't mean anything. I'm eighteen and I get along just fine." He scolded.

"I know. I just feel…_old._" Sam laughed at her again.

"You're only as old as you feel."

"Enough with the cornball lines; they've never helped anyone feel better."

"It's true though. My dad is forty-six and he relates to some of our friends better than I can." He answered. Wendy let out a frustrated sigh.

"That's irrelevant." She answered stubbornly.

"No it's not. It's a valid point." Sam sounded so smug. "And things didn't really change for me when I turned eighteen. I still feel the same. It just means I can legally buy cigarettes now. Which if you think about it isn't all that great anyways, 'cause I don't smoke." He laughed. Wendy shook her head.

"Whatever." She laughed at him. He was annoyingly sensible sometimes. "Has it been two minutes yet?" Sam looked down at his watch and smiled.

"Wait for it…" A few more seconds ticked on by. "Wait for it…" Another few seconds. "Wait for it…Okay, Happy Birthday, Wendy." He smiled. They hugged and then Sam waited for the birthday girl to have the first bite of cake. She took a particularly large bite and was delighted to find that it was her favorite: white cake with butter cream frosting. Yum!

It only took the two about fifteen minutes to devour the entire cake. They were left feeling very energetic because of all of the sugar, and very full. Unfortunately, however, they heard somebody walking down the upstairs hallway, and Sam thought it an opportune time to make a quick getaway. Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Fletcher would be very happy to find Sam in their daughter's room in the middle of the night.

So Sam collected the trash from the cake in his handy grocery bag and started the descent down the ladder.

"Thank you." Wendy called down to him once he had reached the lawn. Sam smiled in response and began folding the ladder up before disappearing across the street in his own house.

Wendy sat at the window thinking for a while. Was she really eighteen? Maybe it was like Sam said: age is only a number. She certainly didn't feel any different. She was still good ol', reliable Wendy Marie Fletcher.

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"What?" Wendy woke from her sleep. She starred around and found that she had been sleeping with her head resting on the window ceil. It was still dark out, but she could see the sun starting to rise off in the distance. Then last night, or rather that morning, came to her and she remembered that she was eighteen now. She smiled to herself, and then realized that someone had woken her. She looked outside again, but no ladder was propped against her window, nor was anyone in sight. Wendy turned around, but nobody was in her bedroom either. That was really strange. She could have sworn that somebody had shook her shoulder, and then something bright and sparkling had dashed out of sight. Maybe she was just dreaming. 

She stood up and closed her window before consulting her clock for the time. It was only about five and she didn't have school or any other plans that morning so she hopped into her bed to go back to sleep.

Then she heard tapping on the glass of her window. It was probably Sam again. Exhaustion overcame her, but nonetheless she got out of bed to see what he wanted. "What now, Sam?" She groaned before she even had the window open all the way.

"What's a Sam?" The person that met her gaze was definitely not Sam. It was a boy with redish-brown, shaggy hair and brilliant green eyes. His apparel was green and organic looking upon first glance until you realized the shorts and shirt was indeed made of large, broad leaves. The boy looked like he had been rolling around in a pile of dirt, and he grinned at Wendy goofily. What appeared to be a golden bauble speed around his head, tugging on his hair, his ear lobes, and his clothes.

"Who are you?" She asked surprised. The boy grinned even wider, revealing his amazingly white teeth, and apparently thinking that the answer to Wendy's question was quite obvious.

"Of course, I'm Peter Pan." He snorted.

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I told you the end was good! And remember, the faster the reviews come, the faster I update!

Madizon


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